


Reconstruction

by mydeira



Category: Torchwood, Watchmen (Comic)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-15
Updated: 2012-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-29 15:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydeira/pseuds/mydeira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being corporeal never felt so good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reconstruction

Owen Harper in the flesh. How fucking amazing was the human body? How fucking amazing was it to have a body again? Solid and working and no broken finger. No bullet hole! Unless he wanted it, puckered flesh surrounding a perfect view to his left atrium, once you pushed the torn pectoralis out of the way. He could feel his skin and muscles reshaping themselves to recreate the memory. And he could make it go away like it never was. Bullet hole, no bullet hole. Now you see it, now you—

“Owen!”

Snapping back to the present, he gave Jack a sheepish look and finished buttoning the shirt they’d found him. One of Jack’s, judging by the size and blueness. Though green would be more in keeping with his color at the moment. “Saw that, did you?”

Jack’s smile was weak and more than a little grim. “I suppose I should be glad to have proof that I haven’t seen it all yet. But that’s really…disgusting.”

“After all you’ve seen and done, you think this is disgusting? I don’t think I will ever understand you, Jack.” Owen ran his fingers over the smooth material of the shirt. Like silk…or nothing at all. Maybe…nope, like silk or nothing. He could feel or not. So not just memory or what he wanted to feel. Fascinating.

“Owen!”

Right, save the introspection for later. He grinned at Jack. “This whole having a body again is distracting after…how long did you say it was?”

“Twelve years, eleven months, six days, thirteen hours and…thirty-seven minutes,” Ianto answered, setting a mug of Peruvian dark roast with a hint of cinnamon in front of him. No cream and tiny pinch of sugar.

Owen inhaled deeply, savoring the aroma, not smelling it at all, smelling it…he groaned. “You remembered! God, all this time and you remembered.” It shouldn’t touch him the way it did. Ianto had always had a freakish memory on him. “If I can drink this…” He could practically feel the pleasure of caffeine shooting through his system. His heart sped up at the thought. He stopped it dead. Started it up again. This was bloody amazing! Taking a tentative sip of the coffee, he let it wash over his tongue, tasting each nuance. No, this was bloody amazing. “No doubt about it, Ianto, you do make the best damned coffee.”

“Shall we leave you two alone?” Ianto said dryly, dropping into the seat on Jack’s left.

“Very funny.” Owen forced himself to set the mug down and didn’t smell it anymore. Smelled it once more, then stopped. Debriefing first, coffee could wait. “So, where do we start?”

Jack watched him for a moment before he spoke. “How much do you know about what has happened while you’ve been…um…”

“Disembodied? Free-floating consciousness?” Ianto suggested, the wry smirk curling his lips enhanced by the fine lines at the corners of his mouth. Funny how Owen hadn’t seen the changes until he could really see them.

“What he said,” Jack finished.

Seemed that more than Owen’s disappearing wound trick unsettled Jack. Owen smiled. It was oddly comforting to see the man so human after everything. It also gave Owen some hope for his own situation. In spite of it all, he could still be human on some level.

“Whens are a bit fuzzy,” Owen finally replied, “but I know a lot of whats. Like how you gave Tosh a proper burial instead of locking her up with Suzie. The real reason Gwen finally walked away. How you two still go at it after every Weevil chase but Ianto otherwise remains faithful to Marc.”

Ianto coughed. “It’s Mike.”

“Oh, that’s right, Marc’s his twin brother.” Owen grinned when he saw that, yes, Ianto Jones could still blush after all these years.

Jack looked genuinely surprised. “You told me threesomes with twins were for fantasy or, and I quote, ‘whatever oversexed dimension’ I hailed from.”

“Because it’s none of your business, Jack.” Ianto sighed, then fixed his dark eyes on Owen. “And see if I bring you any more coffee, Dr. Dead.”

“Not dead, Teaboy. Not sure what I am, but I’m definitely not dead.” And he felt bloody amazing. “I also know that I’m the first person besides yourself you’ve made coffee for since Gwen left.”

Ianto just shrugged.

“If I didn’t know better,” but he did, “I’d think you missed me, Ianto.”

“No one else ever managed to be quite the pain in the arse you made yourself.” From Ianto, it was the closest thing to admission Owen would get. And he was fine with that. The coffee was more than proof enough he’d been missed.

“Basically,” Jack spoke up, “there’s little you don’t know.”

“About you lot? No. Not much else for the dead or disembodied to do besides watch the living. You can only spend so long contemplating your own existence, whatever it is.” Owen grabbed up the mug again. Just a little warmer than room temperature. Perfect for chugging. Though downing Ianto’s coffee in one go was tantamount to a sin. He settled on a large mouthful, picking out every last flavor before swallowing. It was sad, but he knew he could get off on a fantastic cup of coffee. He blamed his residency for that.

“What about you?” Jack asked. “How much of your situation do you understand?”

“I’ve been trying to make something of myself,” Owen grimaced at his pun, “for, well, it seems like awhile, but I really can’t say. Started with that atrocity they called The Watchmen movie. Changing the ending? What bloody morons.”

Ianto raised an eyebrow. “You have to admit, the original was a bit over the top.”

“Well, yeah, but it worked. In the context of the world established by Moore, the original ending was perfect. And the tone! Don’t get me started on the tone.”

“At least the effects were first rate, especially since we have reality to judge by.”

Owen had to concede that much. “I’ll give you the effects. But what about—”

Jack cleared his throat. “Can we save the film versus source material deconstruction for another time?”

“Killjoy. Forgot Watchmen’s a sore spot with you, Jack.”

“It’s not, I don’t think a movie is appropriate to discuss here.”

Ianto leaned closer to Owen and said conspiratorially, “He still thinks it’s the reason we broke up.”

“You wouldn’t shut up about it!” Jack took a deep breath. “Anyway, getting back to Owen’s sudden reappearance and what he knows…”

“Well, the movie is pertinent. I figured if Dr. Manhattan could pull himself back together out of nothingness, why couldn’t I?”

That earned a snort from Ianto. “You are not Dr. Manhattan. More of a Rorschach. Maybe.”

“Oh yeah? Could Rorschach do this?” Owen let himself go, literally, then pulled himself back together. He grinned triumphantly at Jack and Ianto until he realized he was naked again and sitting in a puddle of lukewarm coffee. “Still working on it,” he muttered. Fucking hell.

“Actually, you’re more of an Invisible Woman.”

“Watch it, Jones. I can make your life very miserable.” He caught Jack watching him with a speculative gleam in his eyes. “What?”

“An invisible…Owen could come in handy.” Jack’s smile oozed charm.

“Technically, he doesn’t go invisible,” Ianto supplied. “He deconstructs on a sub-atomic level and can recohese at will.”

Jack looked every bit as stunned as Owen felt.

“Torchwood One ran an unsuccessful program in the late 1980s, attempting to make Dr. Manhattan a viable reality. The theory proved sound, but something always went wrong.” Wiping at a smudge on the conference table, Ianto added in an even tone, “I don’t recall them ever attempting the process on zombies. All of the subjects were alive. More or less.”

Owen glared at him. “I told you to never use the zed word around me.”

“I though you weren’t dead any longer.”

“I’m not.”

“So what’s the problem then?”

“I was a reanimated corpse.”

“Also known as a zombie.” Ianto grinned.

Before Owen could counter, Jack stood up. “I think the team’s returned.” He turned to Owen. “You get dressed and stay in one piece until I bring them up to speed.” Then to Ianto, he said, “Please stop antagonizing Owen. I know you’ve missed him, but save it for later.” Without another word, Jack left them.

Owen chuckled. “Still jealous after all this time.”

Ianto seemed nonplussed. “That’s Jack for you. He still can’t figure out why you’d shag me but not him.”

“It’s all about the coffee, mate. Have you ever tasted Jack’s coffee?”

“Unfortunately.” Ianto stood. “Better get dressed. Kami’s only been here a month. I don’t think she’s quite prepared to see all of you just yet.”

“Do I get more coffee?”

Ianto gave Owen one of his rare, genuine smiles. “Only if you don’t waste it again.”

Owen raised his hand. “On my honor as an ex-zombie.”

Rolling his eyes, Ianto left.

As he redressed in the coffee stained clothing, Owen smiled. It was good to be back.


End file.
